


All the Stars Are Closer

by Canislupusarctos



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, HashiMada BigBang 2018, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 13:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16450568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canislupusarctos/pseuds/Canislupusarctos
Summary: I guess it’s basically just my take on Madara’s reaction to being forced to break his only non-familial bond?





	All the Stars Are Closer

**Author's Note:**

> I am so incredibly bad at titles I just used the prompt as my title.

Since the day Butsuma and Tajima forcibly put a stop to Hashirama and Madara’s meetings, Madara had been rather distant.  He knew this, and he knew Izuna noticed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to do much about it, particularly given that no one else did.  Hashirama had been the only friend he could be himself in front of, and the only other person who dreamed of true peace. It had become a common occurrence for Madara to slip off into the woods at night to lay awake under the stars.  When he came back in the morning, he was dead tired, with dark circles under his eyes, a longing look on his face, a reddish tint to the whites of his eyes, and sometimes even the barest hint of tear tracks on his cheeks. Still, he tried to outwardly remain the optimistic, happy child everyone thought he was.  Not that it  _ really  _ worked on Izuna.  It had been hard enough before the incident.

 

Laying on the grassy ground, battered and worn body limp, Madara stared up at the sky, quickly locating an icy blue star that shone many times brighter than the rest of the nebulous sections of the sky.  Somehow, its light reminded him of Hashirama, a bright point in the chaotic, nebulous world. In desperation, with longing, he lifted a hand off the starlight frosted grass and reached up with all the energy he had left, towards the icy blue star that cast a frost-like glow onto him and the grass.  Despite its distance, Madara still reached for the star as if he could grab hold of it and keep it in the palm of his hand. It was so bright, like Hashirama, and just as out of reach. Without a single hitch, his Sharingan activated, just from thinking about it, then switched to Mangekyou form, the form acquired when Madara had been brought crashing back down to earth from the fantastical heavenly dreams of peace and friendship.  The only part of the star he could touch was its icy light, which spread across his entire body.  _ The light is like memories,  _ Madara thought,  _ the only part of my friendship with Hashirama that isn’t millions of miles out of reach, yet painfully visible. _

 

He wondered why he continued to reach for something so far away, then remembered what he did to hold on to his forbidden friendship.  Then how he still went to the river, or at least a spot close to it, in the hopes of regaining it. Suddenly, the starlight seemed cold and sharp, like piercing needles of ice.  It was freezing over his body, no longer a comforting source of hope. No, now it was slowing down his system, shutting down his body. Just the same way his friendship with Hashirama had destroyed him once it had been forcibly ripped away.  Clenching his fist, as if to block the starlight, a futile effort, Madara closed his eyes. Why form bonds if they would just be sources of pain this great when ripped away? Especially if such a short-lived bond where the person was still alive was so painful.

 

As if a million miles underwater, there seemed to be a crushing pressure so great Madara couldn’t breathe.  His lungs ached for air he couldn’t give them. The icy starlight felt like it had frosted over his entire body, freezing it from the inside out, and crept inside it through his mouth and nose, like water entering the body of a panicked drowning person.  The intricate lattice of crystals seemed to lock his alveoli in place, tracing beautiful patterns of death on them and gradually making his breaths shallower and shallower. He wondered how he was even still alive, considering his heart already felt like it had been shattered into countless pieces and run through with his father’s sword.  Hadn’t it been enough to lose three of his brothers? Madara was sure that his last thread of sanity and hope was his bond with Izuna. He had to stay strong, but he was too unbalanced, he knew it.

 

The longer Madara stayed where he was, thinking and wishing, the brighter, colder, and more needle-sharp the light seemed.  It hurt the way using the Mangekyou did, only it wasn’t something Madara could do a thing about. This pain was all psychological, and it was excruciating.  The light seemed to get ever heavier and more oppressive, until Madara lost consciousness from lack of oxygen and pain. The darkness had slowly closed in on him, the same way another kind of darkness had been closing in on him far more slowly since before he was even born.  That darkness was very near to consuming him, the previously dormant tendrils wrapped around him since his conception beginning to tighten like a noose, pulling the rest of the darkness forward, holding Madara in place so he couldn’t escape. There was a tendril around his neck, starving him for air, a cloud around his face, smothering him, depriving him of light.

 

The stars continued to shine coldly, cruelly out of reach, forever.  Their siren’s glow faded by morning, all but invisible, but still very much there, like psychological scars.  Most didn’t notice, but when Madara awoke, sun’s rays just barely spilling over the ground, he could still feel the harsh starlight.  The sun’s rays seemed far too distant, a cold yellow wash rather than the warm, golden honey most made it out to be. It did little to chase away the darkness, leaving Madara all but completely sapped of energy and the will to fight.  But the will to fight was still there, a small flame at his core, as if kept alive by his fiery chakra, fanned by currents of wind.

 

It seemed almost too much effort to force his heavy eyelids open, to give up the opportunity to keep them forever closed in an eternal sleep, to forever keep his terrible eyes away from the world.  Madara almost feared that everything their gaze passed over would be cursed. Izuna, Hashirama, Uchiha, Senju, the very earth of Hi no Kuni. But he had to be strong, for his brother, and maybe, just maybe, a small part of him hoped that he would be able to bring peace with Hashirama still.  Foolish, maybe, but hope was, unbeknownst to Madara, one of the driving forces of the world.

 

Standing wearily, reluctantly, wishing he could lay down for his final rest, Madara looked up with tired eyes searching the lightening sky.  “I wish you were here with me, Hashirama.”

 

He knew Hashirama couldn’t hear him, but what he didn’t know was that Hashirama felt something through a connection neither of them knew they really had.  Every step felt like it was weighed down by the weight of the entire world, chains binding Madara’s feet to the very earth itself. Each step took him farther from the path of peace and was a step down the road of war and unending violence.

 

When, seemingly at long last, Madara reached the Uchiha compound, he saw Izuna run up to him.  “Nii-san! Why are you out all night all the time?!”

 

Plastering on his false identity, he lied with a smile,  “Just like sleeping out under the stars sometimes.”

 

Izuna frowned.  “You’re not telling me the truth, or, not the full truth.  What is it? And you  _ could  _ sleep under the stars here.”

 

Madara sank deeper into his facade, lying once again, “What do you mean, Izuna?  That’s all there is to it. Here, there’s always someone up, some light from fires, but out there, it’s just the stars.  Besides, you can’t wake me up out there, you little rascal.”

 

Izuna was too slow to avoid Madara’s hand, which ruffled his hair good-naturedly.  He was still unconvinced, despite Madara’s act. “Stop pretending you’re okay when you’re not!  You can trust me!”

 

Expression darkening, facade slipping, Madara wanted to snap,  _ no I can’t.  You betrayed my trust once before already, and that’s why I’m not okay.  So why don’t you think before you act, Izuna?! _

 

Unluckily, though, at the time, Madara believed it was lucky, Naori and Hikaku walked over, preventing him from actually voicing his true feelings.  Pushing his true self all the way down and showing his facade in full, Madara turned to them. Naori greeted him first, her cloudy, blind eye with which she had invented Izanami the first thing he noticed.  “Morning. Want to train with us?”

 

Hikaku added, “Izuna can come too.”

 

Ignoring his brother’s demanding stare, Madara replied to them, “Sure, I’d love to.”

 

Looking over his shoulder, he steered his gaze away from his brother’s concerned eyes.  “Izuna, you coming?”

 

Izuna clenched his fists, thinking no one noticed, Madara knew.  Then he relaxed himself remarkably swiftly. His voice sounded only slightly tense and forced when he spoke, no doubt because he was worried and felt helpless because Madara wouldn’t tell him anything.  But it was for the best. “Yeah.”

  
All four young shinobi began to walk away to the training grounds.  Madara kept telling himself that what he was doing was for the best.  No one needed to know his true feelings. It was better that way, because then he could help others rather than have them waste time trying to help him.  Besides, it wasn’t like they could know he pined for a Senju. But it didn’t help.  _ I don’t need anyone,  _ Madara told himself.  That only made the cold, cruel, tempting stars seem ever closer.  The possibility of being with Hashirama again, closer still, but at the same time even farther out of reach.  There was no going back. Ever.


End file.
